


the rhythm of my footsteps crossing flatlands to your door

by canistakahari



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anniversary, Fluff, M/M, Outer Space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 02:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7872166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canistakahari/pseuds/canistakahari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a spacewalk</p>
            </blockquote>





	the rhythm of my footsteps crossing flatlands to your door

**Author's Note:**

> written for [alice](http://kinneys.tumblr.com/), three years ago. this was on tumblr, decided to save it over here.

“I don’t want to do this,” says Bones, pulling on his gloves and carefully activating the pressure seals at his wrists. “I really want you to know that, Jim.”

“I do know,” says Jim solemnly. “I’d be concerned if you did.”

Bones lifts his helmet over his head and slots it into the neck of his suit, locking each snap into place and double-checking the fit. “I resent that you’re making me.”

Jim watches him scowl through the face plate and smiles back; by this point in their lives, a contrary or opposite reaction to anything Bones does is just second nature. “Are you kidding me? Only a pod person would be anything other than deeply reluctant. I’d be worried if you were excited.”

After a final check of his EVA suit, Bones pushes past Jim into the airlock. Amused, Jim follows, shutting the door behind them.

“Remember to regulate your breathing,” Jim reminds him mildly as he hooks a tether to each of their belts. “Count each breath.”

“Right, I know,” mutters Bones, his voice coming through the comm system as the environmental controls come online. “I can keep my shit together. It’s fine.”

The computers cool voice counts them down from five and then the airlock depressurizes. Jim touches the door panel to open the outside hatch, revealing the inky black star-studded expanse of open space. Jim pushes off and out, into the thick, muffling silence. In his ear, he can hear the raspy crackle of Bones breathing over the comm; he always keeps the channel open when it’s just him and Bones on a spacewalk.

“Count to ten,” Jim tells him, when Bones’s breathing starts to pick up. He turns in place, using the tether for leverage, and watches Bones launch himself out of the safety of the open airlock.

Impulsively, Jim holds out his hand to him and as Bones’s momentum brings him in range he takes it.

“I gotcha,” says Jim.

“Yeah,” says Bones. His voice is a little shaky, but his breathing has evened out. “I know that, too.”

With a nudge against the tether, Jim sets them spinning, wrists clasped, and their bodies crest the top of the shuttle, filling their vision with stardust. “Hey. Happy anniversary, Bones.”

Bones grunts and shakes his head. “Only you would ask for this, you know. Only you.”

“And only you would agree to it,” says Jim softly.

He loves it out here. He’d be hard-pressed to explain why; for all the reasons it terrifies Bones it seems to thrill Jim. The void and the silence, the distance and depth and breadth, though the cradle of weightlessness is really what feeds his adrenaline rush as his body spirals slowly through the endless carpet of stars.

And then there’s Bones, steadying Jim’s slow spin and anchoring him in the moment. Jim can’t feel his own weight but he can feel Bones in the tug of his hand, a reminder.

Their eyes meet, and for a moment, Jim swears Bones understands why Jim asked for this.

“Hey,” says Bones. His voice is low, calm. He is everything. “I love you. I love you.”

“Yeah,” says Jim, smiling. He closes his eyes. Squeezes Bones’s hand. “I know. Me too.”


End file.
